


under the water (wash away the sins)

by dankobah



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bath Houses, Bathing/Washing, Dragons, F/M, Prostitution, Spirited Away - Freeform, get kylo out of his kimono for the love of god, give bazine a better boyfriend, rey is not the prostitute btw, someone just help rey find her parents please, the spirited away au that no one asked for, well the birthday girl asked, you get the point
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 02:14:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17879174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dankobah/pseuds/dankobah
Summary: Her feet are quick as she speeds down the busy halls, only sliding to a stop to grab a scrub brush and a bucket.  Rey can do her job just as well as any other girl that needs the special foams. The skill is something that gives her a shred of happiness in a place where it is hard to find.The doors to the room are gigantic, taking her full body weight to slide it along the track.  Her lungs heave, but she still manages to enter the room with unparalleled speed. The porcelain tub, sixteen meters deep, is caked in grime and what looks like grass.Its mold upon closer inspection, meaning the last attendant half-assed their job.  She pushes up her sleeves with a small growl, opening up the panel in the wall and sliding on a water token first.  There’s no use to perform an herbal soak yet, not willing to waste the precious cleaning tool on this much dirt. It’s a wonder what piping hot water can do for messes like these.  She tugs once on the token, and it shoots up to disappear to the boiler room. It only takes another moment to pull the wooden chute from the wall, coming down to hover above the basin.





	under the water (wash away the sins)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecretReyloTrash (BadOldWest)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadOldWest/gifts).



> **TAGS (oh goody)**  
>  prostitution  
> references to slave labor  
> overuse of the word tub

Everything smells like salt.

The breeze outside wafts the tang into the wood-paneled dormitory, breaching the rice paper windows of the sliding pocket door.  The culprit is outside, the body of cerulean blue water stretching for miles. The water still reveals the reeds and algae beneath, along with the set of train tracks that run far away.

Sometimes, when the girl wakes up early, she stares far away and hopes she can discern a few more meters of rail in the clouds of morning mist.  A few more meters means that the bathhouse isn’t the only thing in this realm, even though it’s been her home for as long as she can remember.

Today is not one of those days, the girl sitting up with a start.  Her hair sticks every which way, some strands curling next to her ears of plastered to forehead in the sleek sheen of sweat.  “Rey! Wake up!”

Her lids blink the blurriness away, head turning to the silhouette shadowed through the thin paper.  Sun shines through it, brighter than any other morning, which means she’s very late. Her mouth feels stuffed with cotton rags, swallowing the dryness down before, “Sorry!  One moment!”

There’s no time to stretch her limbs as she jumps up, immediately bending to grab the bright coral uniform beneath her cot.  The pocket door slides open, revealing the shorter girl with glossy black hair and a perfectly pristine uniform. Leave it to Rose to look put together at every waking moment, even having little flips at the end of her hair.

Sometimes, in her periphery, Rose looks like her sister.  Paige had kept her uniform even cleaner, spotless despite working with the dirtiest customers.  Or, Paige _was_ uptight.  There’s no time to dwell on the disappearance of her, shaking every girl in dormitory 2B to their core.  Rose somehow keeps working every single day; Rey hears her sobbing for hours into the fabric of her pillow in the dead of night.

Rey’s never lost someone.  Or she has, but it’s been so long, and the memory is so faint that she can’t grasp it.  Something inside tells her that she still has parents, though this world is no place for such things like family.  Only spirits live here, ghostly figures and monsters that manifest from nightmares.

Humans like her and Rose don’t have the luxury of something so trivial like a mother’s touch.  “You’re definitely getting the big tub today.”

Rey’s tying the blue apron around her waist, sitting above her hips and just skimming the hem of the romper’s legs.  She’s seen a lot of uniform changes over the time she’s resided here (has it been fourteen years? The markings in her journal signify so, pages and pages of tallys), but the bright pink-peach romper has been her favorite so far.  The freedom of movement in her legs makes her job a hundred times easier.

There’s a strict no-shoes policy, lady Phasma citing cleanliness and worship of the spirits that waft through the doors.  “Hopefully no one big enough will need it.”

“Doubt it, so would you hurry up?  You’re lucky that Finn noticed you were gone before Phasma did.”  Rey’s pulling her hair back into three buns along her hair, the task nearly muscle memory, and scratching along her arms to wake her up further.  Rose meanders out of the room, signifying that Rey should be following. One glance in the cracked mirror shows that she’s presentable _enough_ for what the day brings.

Her hand darts beneath her cot one more time to grab the length of fraying rope.  If she’s cleaning the big tub as Rose divined, she’s going to require it. She chucks the spool over her shoulder and runs out of the room, her footfalls loud as she catches up with Rose.  Before she can say anything, Finn comes skidding in front of them with a terrified look on his face.

“Thank heavens, there you are!”

“Don’t let Phasma hear you say heavens.  Disrespect and all-”

“Don’t let Phasma know you’re late.  You know the strike system.”

Rey can’t be reminded of such a thing like a strike system, plastered on a big board behind the lobby desk.  Three strikes are bad since people suddenly “fell ill” after three. Rey only has one to her name, not even her fault.

The Radish spirit shouldn’t have been touching her-

The sea wind whips around their heads and she set her focus on that, the wood of the walkway creaking under their feet as they take the shortcut to the lobby to grab an assignment and bath tokens.  Finn walks behind them, nervousness radiating off him in ripples that rival the still water beyond the balconies.

Inside smells as it always does, salt mingling with herbs and roasting meat.  There’s a tang of sweetness as they pass by one bath; their eyes darting away as the sooty haired Bazine, wrapped in an ornate floral pink robe, slides the door shut to close her in with the Wampa.

Rose snorts, “Her poor hips.”  Rey doesn’t want to think about the type of things that were about to be done to Bazine.  Girls like her, ones who _service_ customers who pay the price, are treated well in the bathhouse.  Their life seems painful as a trade-off, Rey walking in on too many compromising situations that involve blood or the sounds of choking.

Spirits could be malevolent, and most girls embrace it.  Rey can’t even imagine it, not if she wants an unwanted tingle between her legs that makes her cheeks heat in shame.  The lobby is bustling with the trickles of the first customers, more walking along the bright crimson bridge over the channel of water that runs beneath.  Poe stands at the desk, tokens sitting on the hooks behind him.

“You’re lucky it’s me today, kid.” He announces, a brazen voice on and his hair perfectly tamed in submission.  Rey lifts her chin and holds out her hands for bath tokens.

Poe glances her up and down.  “Since you’re doing the big tub today-”

She can’t help her groan and his eyes glint with a smile.  “You get an extra herbal soak. Don’t tell anyone.”

Rey is grateful, taking the three tokens with delicate hands and clutching them to her chest.  “Now everyone scram. Kylo is back and crawling around here, and you know how loyal he is.”

The presence of Snoke’s over-glorified slave puts everyone on edge, especially when they have no clue where he’s returning from.  One night, very late and when Rey was finishing up the last scrub of her assigned soaker tub, she had spied him walking through the halls with bloody hands and a dazed glaze in his umber eyes.

That coincided with the vanishing of Lor Santekka.  Rey hasn’t told anyone about what she saw, even with the quiet replacement of the longtime boiler room man.  

Who would talk when Kylo is more critical to Snoke than anyone prays to be?

Rose and Finn part together, lucky enough to be on assignment in the main baths.  The big bath is tucked away to keep privacy for their more gargantuan guests. Typically two people would be assigned to the station, but she’s never been known for fantastic luck.

Her feet are quick as she speeds down the busy halls, only sliding to a stop to grab a scrub brush and a bucket.  Rey can do her job just as well as any other girl that needs the special foams. The skill is something that gives her a shred of happiness in a place where it is hard to find.

The doors to the room are gigantic, taking her full body weight to slide it along the track.  Her lungs heave, but she still manages to enter the room with unparalleled speed. The porcelain tub, sixteen meters deep, is caked in grime and what looks like grass.

Its mold upon closer inspection, meaning the last attendant half-assed their job.  She pushes up her sleeves with a small growl, opening up the panel in the wall and sliding on a water token first.  There’s no use to perform an herbal soak yet, not willing to waste the precious cleaning tool on this much dirt. It’s a wonder what piping hot water can do for messes like these.  She tugs once on the token and it shoots up to disappear to the boiler room. It only takes another moment to pull the wooden chute from the wall, coming down to hover above the basin.  

Rey readies herself with a few hops on the balls of her feet, breathing in and out before taking a running start to jump on the curved porcelain.  She nearly slides down through a thick layer of brown filth, hands gripping a particularly strong patch of mold and pulling herself up and over the edge.

The inside of the tub is even worse, black goo coating the inside and meaning she’ll really have to scrub away.  Waiting for the water is the longest part, balancing on the edge with a precarious hold as she scans where the worst of the dirt is.

There’s a ding of a bell, meaning the water is ready.  Her hands grasp the tie, pulling and causing steaming water to shoot out of the wall and into the tub.  The liquid turns black upon content with the grime, earning a groan. She’s got her work cut out for her, and there’s no pretty way to clean this thing.

Rey doesn’t want to soak her uniform in dirty water like this.  Glancing over her shoulder, she's checking if anyone is around. This wing is far removed from the rest of the bathhouse, meaning there weren’t many attendants traipsing about.  There’s no harm in making her job easier, untying the apron.

There’s a bell if anyone’s on their way, and she’ll be mostly under the water.  She reaches behind her to unbutton the one button at the base of her neck, sliding the uniform off her shoulders.  One more scan reveals no one waiting in the wings, and she slides it off entirely.

Rey shivers in the exposure of her skin, a wrap around her breasts and matching tan panties that hit just at her hips.  It’s not nudity, but it’s still frowned upon. Your uniforms only come off if you do the work that Bazine does, and that’s behind closed doors.

Tossing it carefully next to the wall, she bites her lip and tugs the rope to stop the hot water.  She finds a place to hitch the rope, giving her a lifeline in case of drowning. It’s saved her more times than she can count, especially in baths this deep.  It wraps around her waist, double knotted and secure as it could manage. The fraying still worries her.

Most would relish slowly wading into a hot bath.  Jumping headfirst with a scrub brush is a fiery hell, especially when the water is near pitch black and she can barely breathe when she bobs to the surface.  The steam rises, her breath is hard to find as she coughs and splutters to regain precious oxygen.

The water stinks if water can emanate such a smell.  Whoever submerged in here last had something seriously disgusting all over them.  Gathering her courage, she bobs once, twice, thrice before ducking beneath the surface.  It takes her too much time to find the wall, scrub brush hitting it in the black and Rey fighting buoyancy to rub away the caked on slime.  

The mental and physical steeling process repeats as she emerges for air, coughing up gunk and streams of yuck blowing from her nose.  It’s all in a day's work; she tells herself as she emerges for the fifth time. The lack of oxygen feels notably worse, throat seizing and wheezing coughs rocking her frame.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

If she could jump fifty feet from water, she would.  Rey grips the side instead, floating up and down in the polluted water.  Whipping her head around, her eyes land on a figure leaning in the doorway of the bathing room.

Kylo Ren resembles a soot sprite, but oversized.  Only donned in black kimono, no part of his body is exposed but his face and hands.  Some hair hangs in his eyes, making him look confusingly youthful despite him being here longer than her.  Maybe it’s the type of magic Snoke performs on him, the side effects of being a slave being immortality.

He makes her skin crawl, especially under his stare.  It takes her a long moment to realize she looks naked due to the opacity of the water.

“Uh...”  Rey’s lifting her scrub brush from the water to answer her question, more sweat beading on the back of her neck that isn’t from the bath.  Nothing flashes across his face but the same contempt that terrifies her to near trembling. Leave it to Snoke’s guard dog to stumble in on the only rule infraction she’s performed in months.

There’s a quirk of his brow.  “Tell me you’re clothed.”

Rey doesn’t hesitate to nod her head, kicking her feet up to show the wet fabric of her breast wrap foolishly.  It’s only a peek, but his eyes blow wide, then avert to look at the opposite wall. “Where’s your other attendant?  You could drown.”

His care is because she’s another body in the workforce; humans hard to come by in these parts.  Rey shrugs, “Poe said I had this bath to attend to, so I’m attending to it.”

“Nearly nude.”

Rey doesn’t like his tone or his judgemental sneer, and she can’t help how her eyes roll back into her head.  After almost dying in murky water twice, her sense of self-preservation is at its lowest point. “Can I go back to doing my job?  Knowing my luck today, there’ll be a Rathtar just looking for a bath.”

Kylo doesn’t move, arms crossing over his chest as he goes back to leaning against the doorframe.  Being under his observation for this long can’t be good. Her eyes blink, the image of his blood covered face and hands popping like a spark.  Rey can’t help her shiver.

“Just here to make sure you don’t drown.”  Rey will believe it when the katana evaporates from his hip, sheathed in a black and red leather belt.  Kashyyyk is inscribed along the blade, translation impossible from this distance.

“I can take care of myself.”  She motions to the rope that’s decided to float to the top, revealing her near perilous tether.  Dark eyes flick from the line back to her, unimpressed and unmoving.

Rey’s ready to dive under the surface and hope he doesn’t slice her back when he speaks, “Why have I never seen you before?”

There’s something troubled infused in his voice, head cocking to assess her more.  This is the most immodest position she’s been in, giving her no option to run away on an excuse of getting soap.  “I don’t know.” She minds her tongue like the best of them, customers giving her the much-needed skill of patience.

Hoping for missing parents only heightens the skill, but there’s no use in thinking of something so painful when death stares her straight in the face.  “How long have you been here?”

The answer is automatic, to keep the soreness of the holes in her heart at bay.  “I don’t know.” Rey doesn’t remember coming here, only waking up in a cot and cleaning baths day in and day out.

Her parents would come back, right?

The flash of pity on his face makes her blood boil, “Excuse me.  I have to get back to my work.”  There’s no motion to leave, and she takes the time to sink into the water. The burn of her cheeks is more noticeable than the steamy water, infuriating her as she holds her breath and scrubs more.

She hopes he’ll get the message and leave.  The hope is futile as she hits the air with a gasp and turns her head to find him still in the doorway.  Now he’s sitting, long legs kicked out in the well and a piece of Koyo fruit in his large hands. Shaking away the thought of exactly how big his hands are, “Glad to see you haven’t left.”

He takes a bite, chewing and swallowing before he quips, “I might like watching you almost drown.”

How cruel.  Rey supposes she’s not surprised for someone so brainwashed by the warlock.  

“Funny.  How about you get in here and take a shot at it?”

He shakes his head.   “I did my time, young one-”

“I am NOT a young one!”  Rey can’t help her childish shout, regardless of the bitter realization that she has no clue how old she might be.  Does age even matter in a place like this?

“Sure.  You know-”

He starts saying something but a tinny female voice interrupts.  “Oh, Kylo!” There’s a sing-song quality and the quick pad of feet from down the hall.  Before Rey can duck down again, Bazine Netal comes into view of the doorway and nearly jumps him before he stands up all the way.

He accepts this with a relaxed arm, his face showing a discomfort that the girl can’t seem to care about.  Not if the full-on kiss indicates much, her lips crashing to his for a long moment. Rose would appreciate a confirmation of the rumors that Bazine Netal was receiving Kylo Ren in her bathing room, but Rey finds the entire interaction more icky than the muck and dark water that surrounds her.

“I missed you.”  There’s an edge of vulnerable tenderness in her actions as she caresses along his face.  Nothing is flickering across his.

_Poor girl._

His voice is even, “I missed you as well.”

Her finger wraps a strand of his hair around it, over and over as she nuzzles up against his nose and drops her full weight on his lap.  Kylo doesn’t seem to notice, turning his head to look back at Rey.

This gets Bazine to look as well, and if there’s anything that Rey didn’t want to expose, it's herself in disgusting water in only her undergarments.  “You poor thing. About to fuck a Rathtar?”

The notion makes a twinge of pain plague at the junction between her thighs.  “Don’t be vulgar.” He chides, and the defense surprises both Rey and Bazine. The latter is satisfied with a dispassionate kiss to the shell of her small ear.

“Go run a bath.  I’ll be there in five.”

Bazine looks between him and Rey, brows furrowing before her jaw sets.  “I’ll hold you to that.” She presses another kiss to his lips before scrambling up and stalking away with a glare shot back at Rey.  Rey wishes that Bazine didn’t exist at that moment, and she grips the handle on the scrub brush so hard it might crack. Kylo has bloody red lipstick smeared on his lips, wiping it off with the back of his hand.

“Cute.”

Sarcasm drips from the word, Rey throwing the scrub brush from the tub and down at the base.  She needs a refresh on the water, an herbal soak blasting away the remaining grime. “Watch yourself.  Others may not let you get off so scot-free.”

The warning means something, but she could care less.  “Sure. Close the door on your way out.” Boldness feels so delicious in her veins, courage rising in her body like a sleepy dragon smelling a kill.  She’s seen a moment of vulnerability from something so feared, even if it was a single interaction. It’s rich blackmail material if she ever needs it.

Kylo glares, shaking the hair out of his face before stalking out of the room.  The pocket door slides shut without a touch, magic making itself known with a blaring bell.

Smiling to herself, Rey plunges back into the water to pull the drain plug.

Nothing can stop her now.

**Author's Note:**

> a huge happy birthday to [Madeleine](https://twitter.com/secretreylo)! this is the first part of what i have slated to be 5 parts. spirited away is one of my favorite movies of all time, i put it on whenever i study or clean and i just had to write this AU upon her request. i promise the action will pick up next chapter, i just wanted some bathhouse sarcasm and rey being a badass worker. all in all, i hope you enjoy! im very excited about this AU.
> 
> thoughts and feelings r welcome @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/dankobah) and [tumblr](https://dankobah.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> work title is inspired by [Under the Water by AURORA](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKYt4PehnbE)  
> chapter title is inspired by [Soap by Melanie Martinez](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Puj04mZjoHY)


End file.
